Silence
by stargirl0123
Summary: My name is Narcissa Black. If you don't already know me, you must be completely ignorant. My family is one of the oldest wizarding families in existance. Of course that means I am a Pureblood. And I absolutely hate it. Enter Lucius Malfoy, exit my dreams.
1. Araminta's Advice

Silverware clinked against plates. Rather than dispelling the silence, though, these supper-time noises merely intensified it. Cautiously, Narcissa Malfoy raised her cold eyes to glance around the room, trying to find something to break the dangerous silence. Finding nothing, she lowered her eyes to the tabletop once more.

Usually Lucius would fill the silence, rambling about the ministry or some other irrelevant topic. If he made any effort to include her, it was only to ask her opinion of something, then continue with his monologue before she spoke. Sometimes Draco spoke, but she never did.

Narcissa was ghost-like, to be seen and not heard, a pretty trophy. After the past twenty years, a wraith-like witch had replaced the vibrant and cunning Narcissa of her Hogwarts days. Lucius's presence had done this. That idea had slowly taken hold on her for the past three years. But to speak like that would be to shatter her carefully built cocoon of silence-something she could not do without also reintroducing pain. But silently, she hated him for what he had made her.

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Two girls sat in the shade of a sprawling oak by the shore of the Black Lake. Having evicted all other students from the prime spot, they lazed about in the shade. Admittedly, they made an odd pair – a First Year and a Seventh Year almost never mixed. Indeed, many passerbies gave them odd looks, but the duo didn't seem to notice. The elder girl, the Seventh Year, gave a sigh as she stared across the lawn at a group consisting of Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Years.

"What's wrong, Araminta?" the First Year asked. "Got the hots for Nott?"

"Eww! How gross can you get?" she cried. "No, I was thinking that Lucius looks quite handsome."

"But he's two years younger than you are – a Fifth Year."

"I wasn't entertaining that possibility, no. I was thinking for you," she replied.

"Me? He's four years older than I am. You have a better chance with him!" the First Year exclaimed.

"That won't matter once you graduate. His parents will look your way. Four years isn't such a big difference."

"An arranged marriage?" The young girl made a face. "What happened to love?"

"Stop being ridiculous," the older girl snapped. "You have a duty, to your blood."

"My blood?"

"Yes, your blood. To keep your bloodline pure, all-wizarding," Araminta explained as patiently as she could.

"You mean I have to marry a pureblood?"

"Do you want to end up like Andromeda?"

"We're not supposed to talk about her!" Andromeda Black had married a filthy Muggle, Ted Tonks, and been disowned. Her name, despite Andromeda having been the First Year's sister, was not even to be spoken in either of the girl's houses, or their family.

"And that, cousin…" she began, but was interrupted by the First Year.

"Really, you're my mother's cousin."

"Who cares? The point being, my dearest cousin Narcissa, that purity of bloodline is what gives our family name honor and prestige. You would do well to pursue Lucius, or any others who walk in his circle," Araminta said, gesturing to the knot of boys and gathering her bag. When her back was turned, she didn't see Narcissa Black make a face of disgust towards the group, or glare daggers at her back.

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But for all the faces Narcissa could make, Araminta had spoken truly. Two years passed, and Narcissa was now a Third Year, making Lucius in his Seventh.

Narcissa struggled across the Slytherin common room with a stack of books too tall for her.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here, my lovely Narcissa?" Lucius stepped in front of her, effectively blocking her way to the dungeon corridor outside.

"Move. And don't call me your 'lovely Narcissa' anymore," she said, shifting to try and walk around him. He stepped over, continuing to block her.

"Common courtesy. First, say please. Second, I'm a prefect, so I'll call you what I like." He idly picked the topmost book off of the stack in Narcissa's arms so that he could see her face.

"Please, move, then," she begged. "I'm only a Third Year, and people are starting to stare."

"As you wish, my lovely Narcissa." He stepped aside and gave a gallant bow.

"He makes me sound like a flower," she thought in the corridor outside.


	2. Impressions

Years passed. Narcissa hoped that after Lucius left Hogwarts, he would forget about her. Lucius may have, but his parents did not.

Narcissa, now a Seventh Year herself, stepped off the Hogwarts Express at Christmas. Seeing nobody to greet her, she shrunk her trunk and pocketed it, then apparated to the point right before the gates of their manor.

Coming inside, she was greeted by a flurry of activity and stream of house-elves running to and fro.

"Hello?" Narcissa called out. The elves stopped to stare. Then, doubling their pace, they scattered.

Narcissa wandered into the drawing room, and then halted abruptly. Mr. and Mrs. Black sat stern-faced and side by side on a sofa, wearing the infamous "We need to talk" looks.

"Happy Holidays, Mother, Father," Narcissa said, in an effort to lighten the mood.

"Narcissa," her father began, "this is quite a serious day."

"What have I done to disgrace you now?" Narcissa asked, the picture of a guilty teen.

"Nothing, Narcissa. Not yet, anyways. But we've received an important invitation," said Mr. Black.

"Invitation? From who? For what? For when?" she asked, questions bubbling out.

"From whom, Narcissa, whom. And so many questions are quite unattractive for a young lady," criticized Mrs. Black, speaking for the first time.

"The Malfoys have extended a dinner invitation to us," said Mr. Black, looking proud at such an invitation.

"Malfoy?" she sneered. "As in Lucius Malfoy? I think I'll be sick, never!"

"Young lady, both the Malfoys and your mother and I have gone to a great deal of trouble to arrange and perfect this! You are going to make an impression, and it had better be a good one, or I'll see to it that you're disowned!" Both Mrs. Black and Narcissa gasped at the threat.

"Why do I have to make a good impression on Malfoy? I would rather not waste my time and energy on a bunch of ugly gits!" Narcissa screamed.

"I have worked too hark for your disgraceful manners to perhaps ruin a good marriage proposal!" Mr. Black was now on his feet and staring down at Narcissa.

"Marriage! I would rather marry a thestral!" she screamed back.

"Your thestral lovers will just have to go find somebody else, because if marriage is offered, you will not refuse!" Mr. Black yelled.

"If marriage proposals come out of it, I'm definitely not going to Malfoy's house!" Narcissa turned to leave, but a flick of Mr. Black's wand closed and locked the door.

"You will go, and you will be the picture of a perfect lady, if I have to use a potion on you to get you to act like one!" Mr. Black had now reached the height of his anger.

"No, I…" started Narcissa.

"Yes, you will! End of discussion!" roared Mr. Black. "Mipsy!" A small elf draped in a silk toga appeared between Mr. Black and Narcissa.

"What is it Master is requiring?" Mipsy asked, bowing low.

"Mipsy, escort Ms. Narcissa to her room. I want her ready to go to the Malfoys' at five o'clock sharp. I give you leave to use your magic if she resists." With a snap of her fingers, Mipsy was rushing out of the room, dragging Narcissa out of the room by an invisible cord around her waist. But Narcissa still managed to give her father a vehement glare as she was dragged from the drawing room.

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"Mipsy!" The rest of Narcissa's protests became an undistinguishable gurgle as the house-elf magically pushed Narcissa's head under the water roughly.

"I is sorry, miss, but master is saying that miss must be prepared by five o'clock." Mipsy snapped her fingers again and Narcissa was levitated out of the bathtub and magically dried. Mipsy looked at the wall clock and let out a tiny house-elf cry. "It is 4:30! Miss must hurry!"

"Mipsy, it's perfectly fine. You don't have to listen to my father," Narcissa said, still being levitated over the bathtub.

"Mipsy must follow master's orders!" the house-elf cried, dumping Narcissa unceremoniously on the bathroom floor. She shooed Narcissa into the bedroom, throwing pale green silk dress robes at the girl. "Miss must put those robes on, Master says." Grudgingly, Narcissa slipped into the silk robes, knowing that her father really would carry through with his threats if she didn't. Mipsy then proceeded to yank a brush through Narcissa's hair and style it with magic. At five o'clock, Mipsy was dragging Narcissa back into the drawing room, though Narcissa fought the elf's magic as hard as she could.


	3. War of the Roses

Dinner at the Malfoys' was a cold and silent affair for Narcissa, although everyone else except one chatted amiably. Mrs. Malfoy looked down at her plate silently. "That's what living with a Malfoy does to you," thought Narcissa. Neither Narcissa nor Mrs. Malfoy started any conversations, and when spoken to, they answered in short and simple sentences. At intervals in the conversation, her parents would look over at her, imploring her to act like the lady they were telling the Malfoys that she was. Why should she be a lady? So she could do what? So she could make herself more appealing to the Malfoys? Ugh! This made her more sullen, and she retreated into silence.

In an interesting phenomenon of time, the dinner was excruciatingly slow, yet quick. It seemed as if the dinner conversations lasted forever, yet in no time at all, they were all in the Malfoys' drawing room. Narcissa pretended to be absorbed in the hot chocolate pressed into her hands. She absentmindedly watched a chain of bubbles float around the rim of the mug.

"Narcissa?" Someone said her name, and she jumped.

"Yes?" she asked politely. Her parents breathed a sigh of relief. It was Lucius.

"Would you like to take a stroll through our gardens with me?" Narcissa looked over at her parents, who nodded with a look of entreating in their eyes. She longed to scream "NO!" and toss the hot chocolate in his face, watch it run down that white-blonde hair in muddy rivers… if only her parents weren't three feet away from them. She was scared of what would happen if she didn't accept.

"That would be nice of you, Lucius." A serene face hid a mind that was racing.

He led her through the hallways and rooms of the manor house until he reached a large and heavy wooden door. With but a single-handed push, Lucius opened it, revealing a brick-walled rose garden. Roses climbed the walls and lined the narrow, meandering path. It seemed filled with an un-earthly beauty in the crisp, starless December night. Lucius led her onto the path, closing the door behind them. He looked up.

"There aren't any stars out tonight." He brought his gaze down to Narcissa's face, and held it there. "But I believe that that's because all their light is in your eyes." She blushed prettily.

"Lucius, you're very kind, but… I don't think I feel the same way. Sometimes, the way you talk to me…it makes me feel like all you want me for is my blood." She spoke softly and hesitantly. She hated having to appear so docile, but if she was anything less, she feared what her father might do.

"I won't argue that that's what my parents want." He paused. "But what I want is…you."

"Lucius, please, I…" She trailed off. He seemed so passionate, but imagining any kind of reciprocated feeling made her shudder. Lucius noticed that Narcissa was shivering.

"Narcissa, are you cold?" he asked. "Here, take my cloak, please." He unfastened the cloak and draped it around her slim shoulders, taking the opportunity to put his hands on her upper arms. Slowly, he pushed her up against the brick wall of the garden.

"What are you…?" Before she had finished, his mouth was on hers. She squirmed, and began to fight him. But he had her pressed up against a brick wall. His hands held her arms tight against the wall, and his body was leaning into hers, pressing her tightly between the wall and himself. The kiss was pinning her head back. She was disgusted, but held tight. Her efforts to move forward and out of the kiss only succeeded in deepening it and bringing him in closer. Physical attempts would come to no avail, he was stronger and almost ten inches taller than she. Narcissa began to run out of breath – he wouldn't stop. Right as she began to get dizzy from the lack of air, he stepped back, still holding her arms to the wall.

"Let me go!" she cried, her wits returning to her. He didn't respond, only kissed her again, this time forcing her tongue between her lips. She mentally recoiled.

This time, he released her. Without his support, she crumpled to the ground, mind wheeling. Lucius picked her up again.

"Let me go, you sneaking coward," she said.

"Very well." He released his hold, causing her to lose her balance once again.

"What were you doing?" she asked, taking in great gulps of air. "You're such a slimy jerk that it's no wonder you have to push a girl up against a wall to get a kiss. I think you're arrogant, and repulsive too, if you have to use a move like giving a lady a cloak like that. I can't stand you, I…" Lucius interrupted her.

"I wouldn't go any further, my lovely Narcissa," he said, using his hated pet name for her.

"And why shouldn't I?" she asked, a murderous look in her eye.

"I'm sure your parents would love to hear about our escapades. They wouldn't find them…inappropriate, would they?"

"What do you want?"

"I've already told you," he said. "It's you."

"I would rather die than see you again."

"Feeling feisty tonight, Narcissa? I like that. You know, my parents like you too. They will ask you over again."

"I'll be sure to be violently sick that night."

"No, you won't. I'm sure your parents will see to that." She stomped on his foot, and then turned to go back inside, flinging his cloak on the ground as she did so. "Good night, my lovely Narcissa" he called after her.


	4. Coffee Talk

Lucius would prove to be right. On the clear June morning that marked Narcissa's last day at Hogwarts, an owl converged upon her at breakfast. She read, in an elegant, curling script:

_My lovely Narcissa,_

_My family and I would simply adore it if you would join us for three weeks at the beginning of your summer. We have already owled your parents, who quickly gave their approval. My family and I will arrange your transport from Platform Nine-And-Three-Quarters. I shall see you soon – _

_Much love, dearest,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

Narcissa scowled down at her toast. The tone of the letter was obvious – commanding, not requesting, but she dutifully penned the polite expected reply.

_Lucius,_

_I would be quite happy to spend three weeks with you and your charming family. Give my love to all, and expect me soon._

_Narcissa Black_

She attached the note to the waiting owl's leg and sent it off, sighing. It would be a long summer vacation.

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"Narcissa! How wonderful to see you again!" Mr. Malfoy Sr. said, enfolding her in a hug, like they were old pals. Behind her permanently plastered-on smile, Narcissa gagged.

"We'll call a house-elf to carry your trunk upstairs," said Lucius, giving that smarmy smile of his. Narcissa flashed a duplicate right back.

Later, she was sprawled across her bed, reading an old Hogwarts textbook, _Standard Book of Spells, Grade 7,_ again. Somebody knocked at her door. Thinking that it was only a house-elf, Narcissa yelled,

"So sorry, but I'm busy now," at the door. The person who had knocked swung the door open.

"Too busy for me?" asked Lucius. He was grinning like a hyena as he reached up to slick back his hair. She wondered if it was grease that kept it so slicked back.

"Yes. I would appreciate some quiet, Malfoy," she said scathingly.

"Please, Narcissa, call me Lucius."

"At least you weren't acting possessive that time. Honestly, _my _Narcissa, _my lovely, darling Narcissa_," she mocked. "I don't belong to you!"

"But you belong in my heart," said Lucius.

"You're repulsive! I never have, don't now and never will! You…" He had once again silenced her with a kiss. But she pulled away quickly. He pushed her down on the large, soft bed, pinning her wrists and kissing her again. Perhaps more than anything else, Narcissa hated being helpless. It just so happened that Lucius was quite good at making her feel so helpless. She struggled for breath, until he pulled away. He was lying directly on top of her, and her vulnerability irked her.

"I love you, my lovely Narcissa." As quickly as he had come, Lucius was gone, leaving Narcissa washing her mouth out.

For the next three weeks, he planned encounters like this, pressing her smaller frame against a wall or a piece of furniture and kissing her until she was breathless. He relented only when his parents were present, then becoming the perfect gentleman, helpful and sweet. But when they were gone once again, he was back on her, punctuating his unwanted, breath-stealing kisses with pet-names for her. She wouldn't deny that he was a good kisser, but she hated him. Still, he would always, usually still pinning her down, tell her that he loved her.

At the culmination of the torturous three weeks, the Malfoys once again invited the Blacks over for supper. Before supper, Mrs. Black excused herself to the powder room. Narcissa recognized her cue and followed, making excuses to the Malfoys as she left. Mrs. Black wordlessly closed the door and turned to Narcissa.

"What's happened?" she asked anxiously when Narcissa said nothing and merely sat herself on the counter. "Well, anything?"

"Nothing, mother."

"Come, something must have happened!" Mrs. Black said, mistaking Narcissa's annoyed tone for a bitter, disappointed one.

"If you want to know about him cornering me all about the house and kissing me, then something happened!"

"It's a start."

"Did you not notice that I said 'cornered'?"

"You father says that if anything happens tonight, say yes, and look happy about it!"

"And what if I'm not happy about it?"

"Say yes anyway, it's a good match, better than that blood traitor Andromeda made anyway. Your father says he'll disown you if you don't." With that said, the two Black women exited the powder room, one smiling, and one sullen and defeated.

Throughout supper, Narcissa was the charming girl her parents wanted, pretty and agreeable, much to her parent's relief. Similarly to the pattern of events in December, they retired to the drawing room later, drinking coffee and making jokes.

Clearing his throat, Lucius stood up with the air of a person about to make an utter fool of himself

"Father, mother, Mr. and Mrs. Black, Narcissa," he began, putting what he must have thought was a loving accent on Narcissa's name, "I must admit that these three weeks have been the best of my life." Narcissa gagged behind her mask of a face. "Mr. and Mrs. Black, Narcissa is simply charming in every way, a true delight to be with and a compliment to you." Where was Lucius going with this? "Which is why, after much deliberation between my parents and I…" Hardly, thought Narcissa. You've spent the past three weeks kissing me to death! "… I have decided to ask you for Narcissa's hand in marriage." Narcissa's mind started racing, and she barely noticed Lucius drop to one knee before her and present her with a ring in the Muggle fashion.


	5. Always and Forever

"No, no, it will never do! The robes simply must be perfect," Mrs. Black cried, pushing Narcissa back into the changing rooms.

"Mother! I don't recall saying I wanted this marriage. Nobody asked me, because Lucius asked you!" Narcissa was in such a high rage, she didn't seem to care that they were in a public store.

"Narcissa, pull yourself together and act like a lady in public," Mrs. Black hissed through the changing room's door. "I've told you before, it's a lovely match." The older woman sighed and slumped into a nearby chair.

"It's only a lovely match for everyone else! What's not lovely is being married to someone I don't love for the rest of my life!"

"What part do you honestly think love has in a pureblood marriage? Most pureblood girls aren't so lucky, to marry someone who loves them. I'm sure you'll change your mind after the wedding."

"Don't say the w-word, mother! I'm sick of it already, and I DON'T LOVE HIM!"

"Yes, I know, dear. Try these." She tossed another set of robes over the door. "Wasn't it nice of Lucius to make all the arrangements, don't you think?" Mrs. Black asked absentmindedly. Narcissa's answer to this was muffled as she pulled the new set of dress robes over her head. "You'll be fine, dear, trust me." Narcissa highly doubted that.

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_I could not look uglier._ Her robes, picked by her mother, of course, looked like some hideous parody of a Muggle wedding dress. They were all lace, satin, beads, and some gauze-like material. "Whoever made these robes deserves something worse than _Avada Kedavra_," she thought.

A Muggle might have actually believed that this was an ordinary wedding, but Narcissa could sense strong magic in the air. Bedecked to fit the classic picture of a Muggle couple, Lucius was wearing black robes, and they stood beneath an arbor, before the closest thing Muggles could call a "priest". But it was different, marked by the silver wreaths on the couple's heads, and the structure before the priest, the Altar of the Elements. Narcissa nervously fingered the silver heart she held for the ceremony. Of course, Lucius's was gold. How sexist. But she had to accept this or face the consequences. She had no doubt that a fate worse than death, if it were possible, awaited her if she messed this up.

"Welcome to the Ceremony of the Elements," the priest said. Narcissa didn't even know who he was. "We shall begin with the Elements of Marriage." He made a wide gesture to the Altar before him. It held four bowls, one each with fire, water, and wood, and an empty one meant to represent air. Trust Lucius to choose the irreversible, eternal Elemental Ceremony. Narcissa knew that on a shelf out of view, the priest had three glasses, a pair of fire tongs, and an axe. _I wonder if I could grab it and kill him. I don't think so, not unless I want to end up dead too._ "First, we shall symbolize the union of two lives into one." The priest reached below the Altar and brought out the three glasses. He dipped two of them into the water basin and filled them half-full. "They become one." He poured the water from both glasses into the third glass. Narcissa felt the magic tighten. If Lucius did too, he didn't show it. "Next, we shall symbolize the melding of two hearts into one. Would you please give me your hearts?" They wordlessly handed him the silver and gold hearts. He took the fire tongs and held the hearts in the fire, magically welding them. Narcissa didn't know too much Muggle chemistry, but she had the idea that the tiny fire in the fire basin wasn't hot enough, and she didn't think that gold and silver naturally mixed. But it was all symbolic. When the two hearts blended, the magic tightened on her so forcefully that she almost fainted. Lucius seemed unfazed. "Now we shall symbolize their splitting from their families." He split the wood with his axe. They will stay together, even burn together." He tossed the two pieces of wood into the fire basin. Another sharp magical tug. "And finally, we shall symbolize their work together. Two winds shall come together to form a harmonious breeze." He pushed his hands together, and then pushed them away from himself, moving the air. Narcissa felt the magic squeezing her.

Narcissa knew that Lucius would go for the Words of Verification too. For him, it was not enough to simply go through the motions of an Elemental Bonding, which was bad enough, but they had to seal the deal by saying and accepting that bond. Some couples just used the Elemental Bonding. But Lucius was thorough. The Words of Verification, her sure doom, would ensure that the couple was faithful to one another, until death do they part. And if the couple was magically powerful enough, sometimes the bond would last, even if the husband was dead. And Lucius was powerful, physically and magically. He would never, ever let her escape.

"Do you, Lucius Malfoy, take this woman to be your wife, to love, provide for, be faithful to, and protect?"

"I do," Lucius said, without a moment's hesitation. It wasn't so difficult for the man to agree to the promises in the Ceremony of the Elements. But the bonds that held women were so much stronger, and they could never be broken.

"Do you, Narcissa Black, take this man to be your husband, to love, to be faithful to always and forever, to follow and obey?" _Always and forever, always and forever._ If she said those two words, "I do," two words that could end her life as she knew it, she would be held completely fast to these promises, until her death. But her parents could do much worse if she refused. She was caught between two rocks, and scared. Time slowed.

"I…do." Her mind went numb. She plunged into a world of darkest black and coldest cold. There it all goes – her life, her love, and her future. Straight to Lucius Malfoy. Now she was caged, dropped into the prison of marriage, never again to be free.

And a prison it would be, with the keeper of the keys, Lucius Malfoy. He had known what he was doing when he chose this ceremony. Lucius was responsible for her wellbeing, yes, but she had to obey him, in whatever he wanted. He was her master; she might as well be down worshipping the ground before him. He held her life in his hands. And the marriage was eternal – she was now forever Narcissa Malfoy.

Narcissa was blank, physically and emotionally blank. Behind her plaster-face, she barely felt the meaning of the rest of the ceremony. It was all symbolic anyway. Lucius and Narcissa faced each other and placed their hands together. The priest took a length of unbreakable golden cord and tied it tightly around one set of their wrists, his so much bigger than hers. The cord was symbolic too, symbolic of the magic that held them together now, both in a relationship and physically. Their hands would be tied together for a week, a week of every single moment together. And not on a honeymoon either. Wizards don't have honeymoons.


	6. The First Morning

**Chapter 6: The First Morning**

Narcissa pointed her wand at herself. _Is it possible to kill yourself by magic? _She didn't know and didn't want to try. "Roparius," she said, changing clothes. She really wasn't about to change in front of him with their hands tied together.

She was tired. The magic of Elemental Bonding takes a strong toll. All she wanted to do now was sleep, maybe sleep forever. But, of course, Lucius had other ideas.

"Come, Narcissa, the night is young." She supposed he thought he sounded coy.

"Leave me be. I'm tried."

"You really can't be tired – it's our wedding night." She hated the word 'wedding' now. It reminded her of who she was now – Lucius Malfoy's wife, a possession, a trophy… as good as a slave when it came to her own free will.

"I know you know what a toll Elemental Bonding takes," she snapped. He was sitting on the bed – their bed – and she was standing. He was pulling her in by their attached wrists, being stronger. As he pulled, it was becoming increasingly difficult to fight. It was as if her mind and body disagreed, but her body had control. "Lucius, what are you doing?" He had pulled her into him.

"What am I doing?" he asked, genuinely confused. "You're the one who got easier to pull in."

"I'm certainly not trying to encourage you," she snapped, now bracing one foot against the bed.

"It's the vows," he said; his voice was purring, seducing. Certainly, nobody could call him stupid. "You're supposed to follow me. Follow me to bed, that is." He gave a yank on their attached wrists, and she sprawled on top of him. Quickly, he flipped and was now lying on top of her, kissing her, like that afternoon not so long ago. Now, he refrained from crushing her, swiveling to lie on his side, dragging her with him to face him. His large hands caressed her upper arms, moving up to her shoulders and neck, and then, down to her chest.

"Lucius, stop. The most loving thing you could do for me now would be to let me sleep." She rolled over, placing her back to him.

"How can you be such a spoil sport on our wedding night?" He really didn't understand. She supposed you didn't when you got everything else you wanted.

"Tomorrow."

"But…" He didn't continue; she was already asleep, her angelic face finally smiling.

She woke up to the most massive headache ever, a magical hangover. Making a move to get out of bed and make breakfast, she felt a tug on her wrist. _The cord. Oh, the accursed cord._ It came crashing back to her, and the realization that she was Mrs. Lucius Malfoy made her sink back down onto the bed. _Not my bed. Lucius's_. He might have taken advantage of her in the night. It was possible… she might even be carrying his child now. _Perhaps pregnant – oh, Merlin._ And it was suddenly all incredibly real.

She had to do something. Something… like making breakfast. As long as she was busy, she told herself, she couldn't be distracted. Narcissa got up once more and felt the all too familiar tug on her wrist. She had forgotten about the lump on the bed. The tug on the cord was enough to wake him.

"What? Wha' time sit?" he asked groggily, waking up a bit more when he sat up. "What are you doing?" he asked, seeing her standing at the bed's side. He yawned.

"I was going to go make breakfast," she answered.

"Yourself? You woke me up early so you could… so you could work?"

"It's really not work, I…"

"Mrs. Malfoy," she shuddered, "does not make breakfast. Moreover, she is not inconsiderate enough to wake up Mr. Malfoy when he sleeps, so she can work." He was now standing and towering over her, accentuating his extra ten inches in height to their fullest. "Come, since we're awake anyway," Lucius growled. "Dobby!" The house-elf appeared almost instantaneously.

"Yes, Master." Dobby bowed low and turned for the door, but he was not fast enough for the ill-tempered Lucius, who gave a sharp kick to Dobby's backside. Dobby gave a shrill yelp, and Narcissa knew she must have made some small noise, for Lucius turned to her and growled,

"Did I ask you?" He hurried off behind Dobby, dragging Narcissa behind. Living in a house with her father had taught Narcissa not to argue back. She sat quietly as Lucius ranted at her over breakfast, listening, but making no comment.

Narcissa wondered, as Lucius stood up, thereby dragging her up as well, what they would do today, since Lucius couldn't go to work with his wife attached to him. It soon became evident that Lucius had his own agenda for the day. He dragged her back to the bedroom; she had barely registered the fact that they were both still in pajamas. Well, she was, anyway. Lucius was just wearing boxers with a bathrobe flung over them.

Later, he dragged her to the expansive library Narcissa had glimpsed in December. Lucius settled himself at a heavy mahogany desk in the corner. It was scattered with rolls of parchment, some bearing important-looking seals and headings. Then, seeming to remember that she was there, he conjured up a hard chair that matched the desk.

"Don't disturb me." And that was all she got out of him all morning. After the first half hour of sitting quietly and staring at her hands, folded on her lap, she muttered,

"Accio book," under her breath and caught the volume that soared off the shelf. The title read: A History of the Dark Arts in Europe. Why did Lucius have this in his library? She determined that she would ask him later and began to peruse it. At least it was an interesting book.


	7. Honeymoon

The next six days passed in such a manner. Narcissa progressed to almost halfway through A History of the Dark Arts in Europe. Every night, she made excuses, and, surprisingly, was excused, and every morning, she would awake from a Malfoy-free dreamland, only to have the weight of reality come crashing back down. Throughout the course of the week, she attempted to cook thirteen times, to fix a snack for herself twice, to vacuum with magic once, to dust three times, and to dress her own hair four times. The result of her attempts to cook, clean, and use personal hygiene was a sharp reprimand from Lucius and a helpless feeling as the house-elves did everything Lucius wanted for her and more.

Narcissa began to count the days, hours, minutes, and seconds until her week tied to Lucius ended. While it wasn't encouraging to think "3, 572 more minutes," it was much more appealing than thinking of the lifelong mental imprisonment she would now be forced to endure. And so, to maintain her sanity, she began to formulate a plan, of which she told nobody.

Narcissa knew there was only one minute until freedom… forty-five seconds until escape… thirty seconds until her plan was enacted… only fifteen more seconds now… and with a moderate "Bang!" the cord that tied their wrists together disintegrates. Narcissa startled and dropped the book, but Lucius calmly continued to write his letter, pausing only to mutter, "Clumsy woman." Narcissa picked up the book, shelved it, and walked to the window. The library, with its blocky furniture and dark upholstery, had an oppressive feeling, although the July sky that Narcissa revealed by opening the curtains was anything but oppressive. Lucius stopped writing and threw a hand to his eyes to block out the bright summer sun.

"What are you doing?" he asked Narcissa.

"Letting light into this dark room. What does it look like I'm doing?" she asked sweetly, masking her sarcasm.

"I like it dark in here," Lucius growled, getting up and ripping the draperies from Narcissa's delicate hand.

"Lucius…" Narcissa paused to play on his senses by reaching up to touch his shoulder and run her hand down his arm. "May I go shopping?" She knew he would allow her to if she made it apparent that it would be for the betterment of their social appearances. "I really need something – I have absolutely nothing to wear if people should come to call."

"If you really need something to appear up to my standards and it will get you out of my hair, I have no objections," he replied. "What's the matter with what you're wearing now?"

_He wouldn't find anything wrong with this_. Narcissa was wearing a short skirt and a fitted, white cotton blouse in an effort to beat the heat that permeated the manor. "Lucius, I can't respectably meet my old-fashioned parents in this," she said, her sensibility overtaking her forced flirtation for a moment. She quickly reverted to flirtation. "Besides, I thought you wanted me to look good. I thought you wanted me to make you look good." She raised her lip in a cute pout and turned away from him.

"You always look good, my lovely Narcissa," he said, taking her wrist and spinning her back around. "How much money would you like?" he asked. Narcissa allowed her inward self a smile.

"As much as you can spare," she said. _That's right – allow him to think that your only thoughts are what will make him happy and what will compliment our social standing. Let him think that all you are is an absent-minded blonde interested only in shopping_.

He withdrew a bag from the top right-hand drawer of the desk and handed it to her. "This should be enough," he said.

"Thank you, Lucius," she replied, smiling sweetly. A look that Narcissa would label benevolence or patrimony replaced Lucius's almost constant grimace of annoyance. As she turned away from him and towards the door, she allowed herself a fleeting frown of disgust before she reverted to her normal, mask-like gaze of politeness and perfection.

_Phase one complete_. She smiled as she stepped into the fireplace and called out "Diagon Alley."

She shook a stray ash from her heel as she walked into Madam Malkin's. It wouldn't do to return to the manor without something physical to show for the excursion.

Narcissa played the part of the dithering bride to please Madam Malkin, but when she tired of this, she quickly chose two new sets of dress robes – an airy pink chiffon and a well-cut, soft white cotton for avoiding the heat – and left. It was time to visit her real destinations – the stores that sold potions ingredients. She knew better than to take the ingredients from the manor's stock. It was imperative that her endeavors were not discovered by Lucius.

Here too she quickly took the necessary ingredients, paid, and left. Phase two was complete, but she needed a location for phase three. She had the perfect spot in mind.

Narcissa pulled the large bell pull and stepped back. Surprisingly, the door wasn't opened by a house-elf, as she had expected. "Mandy! How are you?" she asked.

"Lovely. Yourself?" Mandy Peters – now Mandy Parkinson – was a close friend of Narcissa's from Hogwarts.

"Fine." Narcissa glanced around, belying the calm, collected air of conversation between the two. She stepped inside. "Is your husband home?"

"No –" Narcissa cut her off.

"Good. I need your help with a potion. A potion that Lucius can't know of. Your husband is too close to mine." Mandy raised her eyebrows questioningly. Narcissa nodded, confirming Mandy's suspicions.

"We can use the storage room."


	8. Suspicions

**Chapter 8: Suspicions**

Narcissa walked confidently back up the walk of Malfoy Manor, several drams of potion concealed in the false siding of her bag. Soon, they would be stored in the one place in the bathroom that Lucius would never look.

She was no longer worried; she no longer had to make excuses or drop off to sleep quickly. Indeed, she felt much better, and with her current stock of potion, she would be feeling much better for the next six months. With any luck, Lucius would think this was a problem caused by the intermarriage of pureblood families.

But Lucius didn't notice that she showed no apprehension that night. He was preoccupied. At 11 at night, he sat in a chair in their bedroom, pretending to read the evening edition of the Daily Prophet. Narcissa, who was dealing with insomnia (a side effect of the potion), kicked the light sheets away from her legs, stood up, and sat down at her dressing table.

"What are you doing?" she asked, looking at him in the mirror. She had several suspicions, but only one could justify Lucius's odd behavior at 11 at night. Normally, he would have been on top of her, but tonight, he was not, and Narcissa's mind was racing.

"Nothing important," Lucius said, glancing impatiently at the clock centered over the mantelpiece.

Narcissa stood up and went over to sit on the armrest of his chair. She spread her silk dressing gown around herself. "Well, I know it can't be anything like business, because I can't imagine that you'd ever let something as trivial as that stop you in bed," she said boldly.

In an apparently comforting gesture, Narcissa laid both hands on Lucius's left forearm. It was burning with heat. When Lucius realized exactly what Narcissa had been doing, he yanked his arm from her grasp. But Narcissa's suspicions had been confirmed. Lucius was a Death Eater.

Lucius stood up abruptly and threw the newspaper aside, causing Narcissa to topple into the chair he had been sitting in.

"Lucius – you're leaving tonight, aren't you?" she asked.

"Surely you knew that in such an old, pureblooded family as ours, it was a likely possibility." Narcissa swallowed.

"How long?" she asked, her throat dry.

"Five years," he replied.

"Since you graduated from Hogwarts?" Narcissa asked, incredulous.

"Since I wanted power," Lucius said. He began to pace the floor of their bedroom.

"And I suppose that power was… desirable enough to torture innocent souls for?" Narcissa asked, her voice relatively level.

"Not innocent. Only naïve. _There is only power, and those too weak to seek it_."

"Don't quote him!" she cried. "It's _evil_. You hurt people; you control people." She paused. "You kill people," she added in a whisper. But Lucius heard perfectly.

"I'm a grown man, Narcissa. I have been for five years. No… _woman_," he spat the word, "is going to stop me from taking this power and using my own free will." He stalked back to her, standing over her like a menacing, terrorizing statue. "You can't control me, Narcissa."

Narcissa stood, but their height differential meant that this made Lucius look no less menacing. It simply made Narcissa feel more confidant. "Lucius, if you can take that wand," she gestured to the oak, dragon heartstring wand that lay on the wardrobe, "and hurt and control and _kill_ people with it," she paused again, "then how can I expect you to act?" She added, "How can I expect you to treat me? I should be _afraid_ of you," she said, her voice trembling. "I can't trust you now. How do you expect me to?"

Lucius sighed heavily and put his hands on Narcissa's upper arms. For one wild second, Narcissa believed that he was going to kiss her, but he did not. He simply sighed again. "Narcissa,… that's different. That's Muggles. That's power. That's not you. That's never going to be you, and I'll make sure of that. Do you feel better now?" he asked. If they had not just been fighting seconds ago, Narcissa would have sworn that this was a lovey-dovey couple moment. But she would never have those with Lucius.

It was Narcissa's turn to sigh. "Lucius, I don't think you can separate the two, so I will never agree with you," she said. "But you are right. I can't control you. I don't even think I can _influence _you. And I certainly can't stop you. But I won't accept that part of you. That's one thing you can't make _me_ do," she finished.

Lucius released her arms and turned from her. When he reemerged from the closet several minutes later, he was wearing billowing black robes and holding what Narcissa recognized to be a Death Eater mask. He said nothing, and the last thing she heard from him was the slam of the heavy wooden door of the manor.

Narcissa allowed her silk dressing gown to slide over her smooth-skinned shoulders and fall into a heap by the side of the bed, where she sat and thought until the sun rose and Lucius came back home.

A note on Lucius's wand:

Oak – strength, purpose, and solidity

Dragon Heartstring – strength of will and domination

Thanks to Potter's World and Olivander's Wand Shop


	9. A Night of Chance

Six months passed, and today, Narcissa knew she had to get free. She had to get to Mandy's, where the extra potions ingredients were stored and where there was workspace. She had been kept busy for the past few days by the planning of a dinner party to be held at the Manor tonight for some of Lucius's colleagues (not that Narcissa had any idea exactly what Lucius's occupation was).

Narcissa had been supervising the cooking for over an hour now. She wiped a non-existent drop of sweat from her brow as she ascended the stairs from the basement kitchens and entered Lucius's study. He was scribbling feverishly, but on what, Narcissa had no idea. She straightened her over robe and approached his desk cautiously.

"Lucius." She felt like a schoolgirl again as she stood in front of his desk. He looked up and stopped scribbling.

"Narcissa, what is it?" he asked.

"I need to visit Mandy Parkinson. It's rather urgent."

"But you'll speak to her tonight, surely. She and Greg are coming, aren't they?"

"Yes, but it's rather crucial that I see her privately."

"If it's help with planning that you need, I'm sure that Bella wouldn't mind coming slightly early. I must speak with Rodolphus anyway."

"I'm perfectly capable of planning a dinner myself," Narcissa snapped.

"What has gotten into you today?" Lucius looked at her curiously, then stood and rounded the desk. He placed a hand on her face. "Your face is rather flushed. Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes, thank you, Lucius. It must be the heat of the kitchens." _Stupid! If he thinks you're ill, you'll never get to Mandy's, and you need to tonight!_ She broke away and paced. "I just… just…" she fumbled for an excuse. "I just need… an opinion… on my robes for tonight." She added the last part in a rush.

"Calm yourself, Narcissa, they'll be fine. You needn't worry about anything." She heaved a sigh of frustration, which Lucius mistook for relief.

"Yes, that's right. Now, why on earth would you need to go to the Parkinson's? The robes are fine, and there's plenty to be done here."

Narcissa realized that there was no way she could escape today. "You're absolutely right, Lucius," she said, shaking slightly with fear, but keeping her voice level. "I'll simply speak to Mandy quietly tonight."

Narcissa left the room quickly. She found an empty room and slumped into a chair, panicking. _What am I going to do?_ She wondered as horrible scenarios ran through her head.

Narcissa, wearing a fake smile and light lilac dress robes inappropriate for early December, made her way through Lucius's dinner guests. When she greeted her sister, her eyes gave an icy flash before they returned to her perfectly glazed, polite look. Lucius made it no secret that he believed Bellatrix to be "a real woman." All that really meant was that Bella accepted and practiced the Dark Arts, while she did not.

When she reached Mandy, the guest that she had actually been making for, she leaned close to whisper in her ear. "I need to talk to you," Narcissa told her, her voice barely audible. Guessing the nature of the coming conversation and realizing that her husband, who she was standing with, should not know about this, Mandy gave a fake-sounding, misleading laugh. "I'll be right along, Narcissa, dear," she said, loud enough for her husband to hear.

A few moments later, Mandy untangled herself from the group and followed Narcissa to the library, where they sat on a large leather couch before the fireplace, the fire providing the only light in the room and throwing their faces into sharp relief.

"Won't your guests wonder where you've gone?" Mandy asked, teasing Narcissa lightly.

"They won't care. They're here to see Lucius and his wealth," she said, throwing a glance out the window as an albino peacock strutted past. "I am here to play the part I have played all along – that of a pretty trophy." Mandy nodded sympathetically.

"What's the urgency?" Mandy asked, cutting to the chase.

"I don't have any more potion left. The dinner party's kept me busy all week, and Lucius saw no reason for me to visit you this morning. There's nothing protecting me tonight," Narcissa replied.

"I can get you some tomorrow night. Here, I'll leave my bag so I can call for it tomorrow," Mandy said. But as an afterthought, she added, "If something does happen, it won't be safe to take the potion any more. Don't compromise your health, Narcissa. Or anyone else's. I should fix a potion for you to check it the other one's safe."

"It might look suspicious if I were to suddenly whip up a potion to check on that," Narcissa agreed. She rose from the couch gracefully. "Until tomorrow, when my situation will hopefully be unchanged," she said. The women walked back to the drawing room, unspeaking.


	10. Nine Months

Narcissa screamed long and loud, releasing her agony. Two floors below, in the darkened drawing room, Lucius's head snapped up, but he didn't doubt that it had been Narcissa. He wanted to run to her, but he couldn't stand being turned away from her door by the Assistant Healer yet again.

In their bedroom, Narcissa screamed again. A Healer, fuzzy in her vision, stepped to her side. "Just squeeze, dear," she said, offering a hand to the very young woman lying in bed. Her words seemed distant to Narcissa, but she took a hold of the Healer's hand anyway. She was dimly aware of another Healer at the foot of the bed, and an Assistant Healer fitted between the two, gathering whatever was necessary. The assistant looked a little queasy at the sight of so much blood, and Narcissa vaguely wondered why she had chosen to become an Assistant Healer.

In the midst of another wave of pain, Narcissa fell into a flashback from nine months earlier.

_She opened the door, but she already knew who stood on the other side. "Please come in, Mandy," she said, politeness masking their familiarity. But she added in a whisper, "Lucius has gone to the Ministry. We have some time."_

_Many stepped inside. Once the door was closed and there was no risk of being overheard inside the protected manor house, they dropped the act of polite acquaintance. Mandy placed her small, formal bag from the previous night inside the larger one she carried during the day and withdrew a small vial filled with a pearly potion that alternately pulsed baby blue and light pink._

"_I assume you two did," Mandy said, taking for granted that Narcissa understood her. Narcissa nodded, affirming Mandy's assumption. "Alright," Mandy said. She shook the potion slightly. "When you take this, nothing will happen if you're not pregnant. But if you are, one cheek will glow blue, and the other will turn pink. Or at least, it will because it's too early to tell whether it's male or female yet. Ready?" Mandy smiled almost mischievously, but Narcissa wasn't so sure she was ready. Maybe she didn't want to know. Answering her silent thoughts, Mandy said, "Of course, you could wait and find out the natural way. But you'll know soon enough anyway." Narcissa was resolved._

"_Here." She reached out for the vial and drained it in one large group. Suddenly dizzy with anxiety, she reached out and took hold of a small table holding the Christmas decorations she planned to put up later in the afternoon. She looked up when Mandy shook her shoulder and called her name. Mandy gasped and led Narcissa to the small mirror to one side of the glass-paned front door, but Narcissa knew what she would see, what she was afraid of. One cheek was blue, and the other was pink._

_Mandy steered her to a chair. "I suppose you won't be needing your usual potion, then, Narcissa. I… I know it's not what you wanted. I'm sorry. I'll leave you alone, to gather your thoughts, but we'll talk later, if you want. Just…" she trailed off. "I don't know."_

"_It's okay," Narcissa said, surprisingly calm. "Maybe we'll talk later. Thanks, Mandy," she finished, holding open the door for Mandy. Mandy nodded, hugging Narcissa lightly, and waved as she walked down the drive._

_Narcissa sat heavily again in the chair, one hand on her stomach, the other on her head. She was… pregnant, going to have a child, Lucius's child. She was only aware of thinking, slowly, _Oh my gosh.

_She didn't know what to think. Surely, even though Lucius was her husband and had been for six months now, she didn't want to give birth to his child. It was just something else to tie her here. But at the same time, it was also her child, and she would love it more than herself. That love overwhelmed all other considerations, even carrying Lucius's child. So she would be happy…. She was going to have a baby._

_At that moment, Lucius came through the door and placed his cloak in the closet before he turned and saw her. "Narcissa, why are you waiting here? Is something the matter? You look rather pale." Lucius held her shoulders as he examined her face, from which the blue and pink had faded by now._

"_No, no, Lucius, I'm fine. In fact," she almost whispered the last part, "I'm pregnant."_

_He stood almost speechless for a moment, then started, "That's… that's wonderful! I'll… I'll make arrangements to work at home this summer, and we'll need things for his room…" Narcissa smiled at Lucius's assumptions, but she hadn't doubted that they'd be anything else. Naturally, he'd want a son, but she didn't mind that. And she didn't mind when he kissed her on the cheek and walked down the hall with an extra spring in his step either._

Narcissa, nine months later, no longer felt the same joy for this baby. Right now, she only felt pain. The Healer squeezed her hand to gain her attention. She was startled by the pain in the young woman's eyes, that she could contain so much pain. The Healer shook her head. "One last push, dear," she said, preparing herself to have the bones in her hand crushed. Narcissa steeled herself, and pushed. The pain nearly caused her to pass out, and the only outlet she could fid was to scream again.

The seconds slowed. Narcissa's life was no longer measured by time, but by agony. Agony and screams. But then, it ended, and another cry replaced hers. As she collapsed backwards against her pillow, the Healer at her side moved to the foot of the bed to aid the other Healer in cleaning up the baby – her baby. The other, sterner Healer barked at the assistant, "Prewett! Clean sheets!"

"Door to the right, on the landing," Narcissa cried weakly after Assistant Healer Prewett. When the Assistant Healer returned with a stack of clean sheets from the linen closet, the older, less abrasive Healer helped Narcissa into a chair at her dresser and helped the Assistant Healer remove the bloodied sheets from the bed and replace them. The Healer helped Narcissa back into bed, and the stern Healer handed Narcissa her child and told the assistant, "You can fetch the restless man now." Narcissa smiled weakly.

She heard Lucius come up the steps in great bounds. At the top of the steps, he quickly forced open the door and startled the Assistant Healer as he strode quickly to Narcissa's side. She smiled at the child before she handed it to him. "Congratulations. You have a son," she said.

"Draco," he whispered, under his breath. Louder, he said, "Draco Malfoy." Seeing their newly growing family, one might have thought they were typical, but things would soon return to normal at Malfoy Manor.


End file.
